


Wait For Me

by WritingToKeepMySanity



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Percy at war, Waiting, World War II, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:52:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1698893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingToKeepMySanity/pseuds/WritingToKeepMySanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annabeth is always waiting for him, whether it's at the corner of the street, on a park bench...</p><p>Or coming back from war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there is a death. But, if I do say so myself, it's a rather well-written death. Also my first proposal ever written. I think it's pretty good though. Also, I'm not sure if the radio announcement was heard in New York, but I wanted it to be, so it is :) Enjoy! Peace, love, and sanity!

A young girl of seven sat on the old swing, legs dangling, letting the breeze rock her back and forth and tease her loose, blonde hair. She was hungry, and wondered what she and her father would be eating for dinner. Then she remembered there may not be much for dinner.

Her daddy told her that the banks didn’t have money to pay the stores, so they couldn’t put food on the shelves, which meant there wasn’t enough food for everyone. Dinner usually consisted of a few small potatoes they managed to grow and maybe a little bread, if Daddy was able to make it to the line.

Her stomach growled and she tried to think of something else. Tilting her head back, she looked up at the sky. It was a sunny day, with big, fluffy clouds. Her gray eyes moving from cloud to cloud, she began to decipher what each cloud looked like. An airplane, a duck, an ice cream sundae… 

The thought of ice cream made her stomach rumble again. She forced herself to focus on one particularly fluffy cloud that, from one angle, looked like a radio. But when she tilted her head the other way, it looked like a bunny.

She was so busy trying to figure out which it was, that she didn’t notice the young boy sit on the swing next to her, until he said, “ What’cha doin ’?”

Gasping, her head snapped down to look at him. His green eyes widened. “Sorry,” he muttered, kicking the ground with his scuffed loafer.  “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” she retorted. As a matter of fact, she was, but she didn’t want him knowing that. “You just… surprised me.”

“Uh-huh.” Twisting the swing so that he faced her, he said, “I’m Percy.”

She mimicked his actions.  “Annabeth.”

The sun slowly set as the two children swung in silence. In the distance, Annabeth heard the bell of the clock tower. She counted each toll. _One… Two… Three… Four… Five…_

Five o’ clock. Daddy would be home at six, hopefully with bread. She sighed, not wanting to leave her new friend. She stood from the swing, brushing her dress off. Percy stood with her and scowled a bit when he realized she was taller than him.

“D’ya  have to go home now?” He asked, trying to stand on his toes so that he looked taller. Annabeth nodded. “Which way do you have to go?”

She pointed towards the street. “I have to go to the corner and turn left,” she said, reciting her father’s instructions.

Percy broke into a grin. “I have to go right.  Wanna race to the corner?”

Annabeth grinned back. “You’re on.” She turned on her heel and raced down the street, her hair flying out behind her. Behind her, she heard the pounding of Percy’s feet. About halfway down the street, she heard, “Hey! C’mon, Annabeth, wait for me!” She grinned to herself and sped up.

She didn’t slow until she reached the corner. Turning, she waited for Percy to catch up with her. When he did, she said, “It’s a race, Percy. What’s the point of a race if I wait for you?”

He seemed a bit stumped by the question. Annabeth smiled triumphantly. Percy couldn’t help but smile back. Before he could stop himself, he said, “I like you, Annabeth.  Wanna be my best friend?” Young Percy knew that it was a strange thing for a girl and boy to be best friends, but something about this particular girl intrigued him.

The blonde girl mulled the idea in her head. Best friend… She’d never had a best friend before. Shrugging, she smiled and said, “Sure,” before holding her hand out to shake. She didn’t actually know what it meant to shake hands, but she’d seen Daddy do it with the men who came over to listen to the radio with him.

Percy smiled back and shook her hand. After the deal was settled, they each went their separate ways.

It was the beg inning of a beautiful friendship.

*~*~*~*~*

Annabeth sighed bitterly, fidgeting on the bench. That idiot best friend of hers was late.

Best friend...

Sometimes, that didn't seem to be enough. She hadn't admitted it to him, but she'd liked Percy since they were twelve. Like, more than best-friend-like. There were times that she thought he might like her, too, but then he'd go and do something totally idiotic and completely Percy-like.

Glancing down the street, Annabeth thought back to their conversation on the phone.

_ “Yeah, just wait for me on the corner of 72 nd and Lexington, alright? I’ll meet you there at seven.” _

Annabeth wasn’t normally on to be forgetful, but—after peeking at her watch and confirming the time to be seven-twenty-three—she was starting to wonder if she’d heard him wrong. Finally, she saw him. She gritted her teeth when she saw who he was with.  Great. Not only was he late, he was late because of  her .

Percy was walking with Rachel Dare, little Miss My-Daddy's-So-Rich-What-Depression?  herself . He was carrying a box of groceries, no doubt for the Dare party later that evening, while Rachel chatted animatedly next to him. Annabeth knew he was just being a gentleman, but that didn't mean he had to smile at her like that, with that troublemaker smirk that made Annabeth's stomach erupt with butterflies.

She remained seated on her bench as she watched Percy walk Rachel to front door. Handing the box to a maid who appeared as they walked up, he glanced down at the battered watch that had belonged to his dad. He looked back up and said something to Rachel, who nodded and, suddenly, leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

Annabeth stood up abruptly. Blinking the tears away, she turned on her heel and set off down the street. Some part of her brain registered the fact that it was the same street she and Percy raced down, eight years ago.

To say Percy was shocked was an understatement. All he did was help Rachel carry some groceries. He certainly wasn't expecting her to kiss him.  Yeah, a kiss on the cheek, but still a kiss.

A kiss that, by the way, felt completely like a sisterly kiss. He'd known Rachel only a couple years, and he'd never felt anything more than friends towards her.

Percy saw a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye. He'd seen Annabeth sitting there, earlier, and he couldn't figure out why she was leaving so fast. Saying a rushed, "Bye, Rachel," he raced down the street after Annabeth. "Hey," he called after her. "Annabeth, hold up!"

Annabeth stopped-- she always did. She didn't turn her head, didn't look at him, just stood and waited for him to catch up.

He jogged up to her. "Hey," he said, breathlessly. "What part of 'wait for me here' confused you?" He added, teasingly.

She turned and looked him straight in the eye. "The part where you were twenty minutes late," she countered, not missing a beat.

Percy shrugged a bit, rubbing the back of neck sheepishly.  "Yeah, sorry about that. I was in town; saw Rachel picking up some deliveries, so I asked if she needed help."

"Yeah, I saw." Annabeth tried to keep the venom out of her voice as she looked back down the street. It didn't work, though; Percy saw right through her. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he turned her a bit so that she faced him.

"Annabeth, what's wrong? Is it your dad again?" Her dad, Frederick Chase, was in Nevada, working on Hoover Dam as part of President Roosevelt's project to create more jobs. He and Annabeth hadn't parted on the best terms. Annabeth shook head. He wasn't the problem. "Malcolm?" Malcolm had wanted to go to Nevada with their father, as well, but had to stay to take care of Annabeth. He could be a little overbearing, sometimes. Again, she shook her head.

Percy scrunched his eyebrows together, looking down at her. When they were fifteen, he finally got his growth spurt and now towered over Annabeth, much to her dismay. "Then what--" Realization dawned on him. "Is it... Rachel?"

"No..." Annabeth wouldn't meet his eyes. He almost laughed. Annabeth was jealous? That was ridiculous. If only she knew...

" 'Beth ..." he dragged out the nickname he knew she hated, earning a sharp smack to his arm. Ah, there's his best friend. He laughed and offered her his arm. Annabeth rolled her eyes at his attempted chivalry, but looped her arm with his just the same. 

They chatted aimlessly, moving from topic to topic. From the war in Germany to her dad's job to the likelihood of his mother remarrying. They joked about Percy's cousins, Nico and Thalia, who could hardly bear to be in the same room together for more than five minutes (which was rather amusing, because, with both his parents and older sister gone, Thalia was the one who had raised him for the last few years).

They most certainly did not bring up a certain redhead.

Walking down the road, Percy was consciously aware of their proximity. He tried to slow his heartbeat as she leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. He'd liked Annabeth for the past few years now, ever since they were about fourteen, but had never told her.

They reached her front porch.

Now , he thought,  would be a pretty good time to tell her.

Before he could muster the courage, Annabeth said, "Oh, I almost forgot," and pulled something out of her bag.  "Happy birthday, Percy."

 She handed him a cupcake, chocolate with blue frosting. Percy accepted it, hesitantly. "How--  how did you get this?" He asked. The stores could barely keep fresh bread on the shelves, let alone cakes.

Annabeth shrugged. "I've been... hoarding, for lack of better term, for the past couple months. I wanted to make you something special for your birth--"

The rest of her sentence was cut off, for Percy had pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you," he said, softly. 

They stood there for a minute, before settling on the steps to her house. Splitting the cupcake in two, Percy gave the biggest half to Annabeth and they sat quietly, eating.

"You know..." Percy said, brushing his hands on his pants. "You don't have to worry about Rachel. I don't...  ya know, like  like her."

"Oh?" Annabeth tried to sound nonchalant, but inside, her stomach was leaping, and it didn't have anything to do with the pastry. "And is there someone you... Like  like?"

Percy shifted, a bit uncomfortably, it seemed to her. "Well... yeah. Yeah, there is."

Another twist of her stomach. "Anyone I know?"

He bit his lip and looked away, shuffling his feet a bit. His awkwardness was rather amusing, and she tried to hide her smile.

"Hey!" Percy said indignantly, bumping her with his shoulder. "Don't laugh at me!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "So are you going to tell me or what?" He shook his head.

"Nope. Not until you take it easy on me."

Fine. If he wasn't going to say or do anything, she would. She turned, facing him. It was considered unladylike for the girl to make the first move, but she threw the rules out the window. With slightly shaking hands, she wrapped her arms around his neck and said, "I am never, ever going to make it easy for you, Perce. Get used to it," and kissed him. When he kissed back, a victory cry rose in her head.

He'd chosen  her , not Rachel.

"Well, it's about time," a voice said behind them. Percy and Annabeth jumped apart, turning to see Malcolm standing in the doorway, smirking. His gray eyes that matched Annabeth's twinkled with amusement. "I was starting to think you two would never get together."

Percy felt his face flush. Glancing at Annabeth, he saw that she was as red as he felt.

"Well," Malcolm turned to go back inside. "As man of the house, you have my blessing, treat her right, and all that good stuff..." His voice trailed off as he descended further into the house. The screen door slammed shut.

An awkward silence hung as Percy looked at Annabeth.

She rolled her eyes. "That's my brother.  Wonderful timing, as usual."

Percy chuckled. "Well, since it seems I have permission, care to go to the pictures with me tomorrow?" He tried to sound indifferent, but on the inside he was hoping she'd say yes.

Annabeth's heart pounded.  About time , she thought. "Of course," she said, kissing his cheek  and standing up to go inside.

He watched her disappear into the house. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he turned and strolled down the street in what he hoped was a casual manner.

But, hey, if there was a little bit of extra swagger in his step... Well, he couldn't help that, now could he?

*~*~*~*~*

They were in a diner, eating with Thalia and Nico, when they heard the news.

_ " Hello, NBC. Hello, NBC. This is KTU in Honolulu, Hawaii, ”  _ Percy frowned and turned up the radio. The diner fell silent.

_ “ … from the roof of the Advertiser Publishing Company Building. We have witnessed this morning the distant view  abrief full battle of Pearl Harbor and the severe bombing of Pearl  Harbor by enemy planes, undoubtedly Japanese _ _..._ " A gasp went through the crowd. Maybe subconsciously, Percy wrapped an arm around Annabeth's waist and pulled her closer. Thalia gripped  Nico's hand, and, for once, he didn't brush her off. Instead, he squeezed back.

_ "… Honolulu has also been attacked and considerable damage done. This battle has been going on for nearly three hours. One of the bombs dropped within fifty feet of KTU tower. It is no joke. It is a real war. The public of Honolulu …" _

The rest of the reporter's comments were lost, as the spell was broken and everyone started shouting over one another. Only Annabeth's table remained quiet, letting the announcement sink in. Finally, Nico asked the question that was on all their minds.

"What does this mean?" 

Annabeth looked up at Percy. His expression was unreadable, his jaw firm and eyes tight. All joking from earlier was gone. She thought about the reporter's words.

_ This is no joke. This is war. _

"It means," he said in a low voice. "The U.S. just entered the war."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Annabeth sat on the beach of Montauk, fists clenched at her sides, staring out in the water, not caring a bit about getting sand in her dress. Her gray eyes matched the weather; dark clouds hung overhead and the sea churned. She was at "their" spot—her and Percy's favorite stretch of beach they'd found about a year after they got together.

Except now it would just be "her" spot.

It was a month since Pearl Harbor.

One week since Percy received his draft notice.

He leaves this afternoon.

Soft shifting of the sand reached her ears. Of course he found her—he always would. She hurriedly brushed her tears away, and turned to look at him, telling  herself that she could do this.

Then she heard the train whistle.

One hour.

She suddenly had trouble meeting his eyes.

Percy approached her cautiously. He was a bit afraid for her reaction. Yes, she knew he had to do this, but it didn't mean she had to like it. He as expecting her to hit him, or yell at him,  call him names.

He wasn't expecting to see her with red-rimmed eyes, tear tracks on her cheeks and unable to look at him. He quickened his pace and dropped down onto the sand next to her.

Reaching for her hand, he said, "C'mon, look at me, 'Beth."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the nickname and turned to him, finally meeting his eyes. He smiled at the annoyance now etched on her face.

"There's the Annabeth I know and love. I was wondering what you did with her," he said, poking her side. 

This time she did roll her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "How'd you find me?"

Shrugging, he settled more comfortably on the sand next to her. "I went by your house earlier to talk to Malcolm and he mentioned you'd left, so I took my best shot."

"Good guess." He hummed a reply. Something he said echoed in her mind.  "Wait, why'd you go talk to Malcolm?" Percy and her brother had never been close, despite knowing each other several years.

His entire demeanor changed. The hand wrapped around hers tensed and the other went to his head, running over the newly-shorn locks. The gesture was so familiar, yet alien, with his new military-style haircut.

"Percy?" If he didn't answer her, she wouldn't hesitate to bust out his full name. He hated that.

He still didn't say anything. "Perseus Alexander Jackson..."

"Okay, okay," he laughed, dropping her hand and throwing both his up in an "I surrender" gesture. "I'll tell you, but first, you have to close your eyes."

"Excuse me?" If he hadn't been so nervous, he would've laughed at her expression.

"Just close ' em , 'Beth."

She did so, warning, "If you try anything..."

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted. "I've known you twelve years, Annabeth. I know you won't do anything." 

She muttered something like, "Don't count on it," and he rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, black box. Opening it, he plucked the ring from its perch in the velvet. The ring itself was beautiful, with a simple, silver band and a small diamond, flanked by two smaller pearls. Small, intricate designs were carved around the band. It was his mother's ring from her first marriage.

Picking up one of Annabeth's fidgeting hands, he placed the ring gently on her palm. She took this as her cue and opened her eyes. 

"It's a ring," she said, staring at the piece of jewelry.

 "Very observant of you."

"Why?"

"Well," he said, tugging on the sleeve of his uncomfortable dress uniform. "I'm... going to be gone for a while, and I was  kinda hoping... You'd hold on to that for me."

Annabeth's heart was beating fast, too fast. Was Percy-- her oblivious, obtuse boyfriend --proposing? It certainly seems that way she thought, slipping the ring on her third finger.  Perfect fit.

Smirking at him, she demanded, "This is your idea of a proposal? On a beach , half an hour before you're shipped to England?"

He shrugged, laughing a little in relief that she didn't turn him down immediately. "Well, I was going to do it the right way: flowers, dinner, all that jazz. But then the Japanese attacked and I had to improvise a bit." Annabeth let a small laugh slip through her lips. "So... What do you say?"

Twisting the ring around on her finger, Annabeth couldn't help but marvel at the simple beauty of it. "Come back alive, Percy," she said slowly, smiling a bit. "Then we'll see."

It wasn't exactly a straight answer; not an acceptance, but not a rejection, either. She wore the ring...

Percy grinned. "I'll take it," he said and, leaning in and cupping her cheek, kissed her.  A proper kiss, without cousins to tease, or older brothers to interrupt. He would have gladly stayed there all day, just sitting on the beach with Annabeth.

But, alas, that wasn't possible. The train whistle pierced the air again.

Thirty minutes.

He pulled away, sighing, and got to his feet. Extending a hand to Annabeth, he helped her up and intertwined their fingers as they walked up the beach towards the train station.

Annabeth tried to hold in her tears as the stood on the platform to the train. She didn't want his last image of her to be a sad one. To keep herself busy, she fussed with his uniform, straightening his collar and tie, setting his hat on his head.

"All aboard!" the conductor cried. Chaos ensued as the men surged forward to board the train. Gripping the lapels of his jacket, Annabeth whispered, "Come back to me, okay?"

He nodded, determined. "Of course," he promised, holding her face as he kissed her one last time. Slowly, he pulled away and boarded the train.

Percy stood on the steps to the coach, holding the rail with hand as the train pulled away from the station. As it picked up speed, he leaned out as far as he dared to keep Annabeth in his sights. The ring on her hand flashed in the sunlight as she waved goodbye, a sad smile on her face.

He waved back, and, as the train went around a bend, shouted three words he was sure were lost in the wind:

"Wait for me!"

Annabeth, unbeknownst to Percy, heard him, and, cradling her left hand to her chest and smiling at the ring sitting on her third finger, she said, softly, though he couldn't hear her, "Of course I'll  wait for you, Percy. I always will."

 *~*~*~*~*

No one understood them, not really.

No one in his platoon understood why Percy would never go out for a drink with them or even chat up the “local lovelies”.

No one understood why Annabeth never listened to them when they told her stories of the soldiers over there—how they never stayed faithful.

No one understood why Percy simply sent back the silver ring he got in the mail with a short note:  I’m sorry.

No one at home understood why Annabeth didn’t give up, not even when his dog tags were sent home—the mark of the missing soldier.

No one in the hospital had ever seen a man fight for his life as hard as Percy had when he’d been shot.

No one understood why Annabeth didn’t hang up the ribbon in her window, how she still talked about Percy, and their plans for when he was home.

No one understood that, simply put, they were in love. And Annabeth had made a promise. And Percy had  something better to go home to.

 

\---Five long years later----

 

He paused at the gate, hand gripping the cane.  A breath in, out. He pushed open the gate.

\-------

The loud  _ creeeeeeaaaaak _ of the front gate brought her to the door.

\-------

She was just as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was loose, framing her face instead of pulled back in a tight bun. Gray eyes bore into his, as striking and calculating as they were five years ago. She seemed light, as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

\--------

While his shoulders were broader, he was thinner than she remembered and seemed stooped, no doubt a result of a wound. Gray speckled his temples and memories clouded his normally bright sea green eyes. All that aside, he was still her Percy, with his messy hair and goofy smile.

\--------

He wasn’t sure who kissed who next-- just that Annabeth's arms were around  his neck, and there was a clatter as  the cane fell to the ground so he could hold her close. It was a short, sweet kiss, but it conveyed a thousand "I missed  you"s and "I love  you"s . It held the memories of the past and promises for the future. It assured them both that they were really there, really together, and that it wasn't a dream. 

\----------

Annabeth pulled away, and brought both hands to rest on either side of his face .  The rest of the world seemed to disappear as they stood there, just drinking in the sight of each other.

It was silent, but a comforting silence.  A silence where everything was said without words.

Finally,  he asked her, voice a little broken with emotion, “Did—did you wait?”

Annabeth felt a small, sad smile on her lips. 

“Every day,” she whispered.

*~*~*~*~*

Their wedding was simple. Percy wore his dress uniform, while Annabeth donned her mother’s wedding gown. Nico was best man and Thalia was the maid of honor. The ceremony was short, sweet and to the point. They ended it with two “I do’s” and a kiss, and their families showered them with rice. 

Sally cried, Frederick beamed, Malcolm, Thalia and Nico tried not to gag.

Everyone said they’d seen it coming all along.

The newly-wed husband and wife were loaded into an old farm truck and sent off to their week-long honeymoon in a cabin on Montauk (which just so happened to overlook “their” spot). 

When their week was over, they began rebuilding the old house Percy and Tyson threw rocks at in their youth. A month later, they had finished and moved in to their home.

A month after that, they had their first major fight. It lasted three days, and neither of them remembers what started it.

Three months later, Annabeth was pregnant. They were ecstatic, and immediately started making plans for their unborn child.

Two months after that, they lost their unborn baby. The doctor said they most likely would never have children.

That night, Percy held Annabeth while she cried.

A year later, they’d pulled themselves together and saved up enough money to travel. They walked through the Parthenon, explored the Coliseum, kissed on top of the Eiffel Tower.

When they came home, Annabeth started work with her brother. Malcolm worked for a company that oversaw the designing and building of skyscrapers in Manhattan, and he put in a good word for her. She was finally living her dream.

Percy worked for old man  Keaver’s pet shop. It wasn’t as important or flashy as Annabeth’s job, but he was perfectly content sitting behind the counter all day, watching the fish swim by lazily and helping young kids pick out their first pet.

Working at the shop, he finally got a dog, like he’d always wanted. She was a pure-black mastiff and her name was Mrs. O’Leary. When asked about the name, he’d shrug and say it was  Nico’s idea (no one ever understood why he’d listened to his younger cousin in the first place).

In the evenings, they sat on the front porch, Annabeth with a book, Percy with a chunk of wood and his pocket knife, whittling. They’d sit quietly as the crickets bid them good night.

They fought and joked and loved and grew old together, the green-eyed boy and blonde-haired girl who met so many years ago on the park swings. Often, they said that it was Fate that brought them together.

They didn’t realize that Fate wasn’t quite done with them yet.

Eventually, their faces weathered, their hair turned gray. Age spots dotted their skin. Percy’s leg bothered him more, and Annabeth reluctantly wore glasses. But age didn’t stop them—they moved around the house with ease, working, laughing, teasing, bickering and flirting like they were still teenagers. Many said that the couple never realized they were old. 

Then one day, it hit.

Annabeth was easing her way down the staircase (they were both too stubborn to admit the stairs were getting difficult for them), when she found herself landing hard on the bottom step. She couldn’t move, couldn’t call out for help. Helplessly, she lay there.

Mrs. O’Leary waddled in sometime later to find her on the ground. The old dog’s once-keen senses were failing, but she knew, in that loyal dog way of hers, that something was wrong. She  nudged Annabeth with her muzzle and, when she got no response, started barking, a low, gruff bark that was so soft, Annabeth was sure no one could hear it.

But someone did.

Percy entered the house, hearing Mrs. O’Leary’s bark. His dog hadn’t barked in years. Knowing something was amiss, he followed the sound of the dog. Rounding the corner, he found Mrs. O’Leary, standing protectively over a barely-moving Annabeth.

The next few hours were a blur.

She’d cracked a rib, the doctors said.  Maybe two. She would have to take it easy for a while, but she would be just fine.

Percy took her home, tried to make her comfortable, keep her from straining herself. But, even though her blonde hair was now silver and her gray eyes hidden behind bifocals, Annabeth was still Annabeth, and she had a stubborn streak a mile long. She continued to move around the house, refusing to let Percy do all the work.

She didn’t realize how bad working was for her health.

It started off small, as things like this do.

It started with a cough, which she brushed off as a cold. Progressively, it worsened. Percy was awoken more than once to her rattling breathing.

It’s nothing, Annabeth would say. I’m fine.

Then her chest stared hurting. She’d wince at the pain, and breathing suddenly became a labored activity. Her chest felt tight, like she couldn’t get enough air. This was all kept from her husband.

It’s nothing, she’d say. I’m fine.

Percy took her to the hospital when she started coughing up blood.

Pneumonia, the doctors said.  A severe case of it. Over-exertion of her ribs, not enough healing time.

What did that mean?

Percy was afraid to know the answer.

A nurse sat by her bed, checking her pulse. It’s weaker, she said, but still there. She left the room, standing outside the door, close enough just in case something happened, far enough to  let the couple talk privately.

He sat by her, holding her small, wrinkled hand in his two larger (but just as wrinkled) hands. Not knowing what else to do, he talked.

He told her about when he first met her, too many years ago, now, to count, and how he fell for her when he was fourteen. About how he couldn’t believe how lucky he was when she admitted to liking him, too, two years later. He described how he spent forever looking for the perfect ring to propose with before he remembered his mother’s ring and how he had it all planned out and how nervous he was. He admitted how scared he was when he got drafted. He told her about the guys in his unit—Sensitive Grover, the pranking Stoll’s, and crazy Leo; about the doctors he’d met at the M*A*S*H when he was wounded.  He told her how good it felt to come home, and how great it was when he finally married her.

Percy talked, rambled even,  until Annabeth’s breathing slowed. Blinking his eyes furiously, he gripped her hand tighter, feeling the diamond of her ring cut into the skin of his palm. Leaning down close to her, he said, softly, “I love you, ‘Beth.”

Her throat dry, she managed to croak out an “I love you, too, Perce.”

Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Wait for me?”

She could hardly talk now, but she nodded slowly, her eyes gently closing. She would wait for him.

She always would. 


End file.
